Mancora

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Mancora was a place that provoked thought. One night after returning from dinner and listening to the waves break on the beach I wrote this...
The relics of time passed through the glimmer of a Star, glistening softly off the currents of time. An ocean is all the same as the tide comes in and retreats to safer grounds. In Mancora, can life continue to be this simple? The sand perfectly lines the feet from a soccer game played through a sunset. Passer-byers lend a foot as stray balls make there way to the ocean. What is a two week pay check? What is living off of mommies and daddies bank accounts? The night bus strikes pot holes consistently as it rumbles to a halt along a town only described in books. Need a taxi is heard with every step, thankfully my Spanish is not good enough to tell them no hodas. The morning sun rests on the oceans horizon as the 20 minute walk through cracked pavement and down dirt and stone sprayed allies lead to a beach front hostel. The morning back aches and neck cramps are slept off in an actual bed as the stomach bubbles for a hearty breakfast. A huevo, queso, and jamon sandwich will keep the stomach through early afternoon. Laying on the beach being a speck of sand, it wonders…how does it all operate? Where does this all lead? Back home to a job, to the occasional walks, or to the great wide open? The spec of sand ponders nothing, for it expects nothing, except to be displaced as footprints come and go. For now, life ambles along a path of a control-less abyss. A conversation in Spanish is a reminder of how little one knows. The canopy of lawn shades shields the burnt body. Where is the aloe? For it is already too late. Can anymore beers take the aches from each bone wrenching movement? Another day in the beach town will come and go, the worry of tomorrow will be renewed. For now, peace of mind rests will each breaking wave.
The next day in Mancora we set up some surf boards and about 6 us tried our hands at surfing. Needless to say, I´m waiting to here from a sponsor. I think rip curl or billabong will be in contact with me by the end of next week.
However, before Mancora, we stopped in Trujillo/Huacachina for two days.
The first day, I went to Chan Chan (pre-Inca civilization). They lived right along the beach with massive sand walls surrounding the inner happenings of the city. It was a massive fortress to be appreciated.
In Huacachina, we lived the real S.A. lifestyle by taking the local bus into Trujillo. The groups mission was to get to the Temple of the Moon (pre-Inca civilization). We got out at a round about and flagged down a minivan. Mind you there were 12 of us. A discussion took place between us and the young kid handling the minivan door allowing passengers to come and go. All was settled, we´d get in. No problem 12 ppl in a minivan...o wait...there were already passengers on the van. We managed to cram everyone in and in total there were about 17-19 of us in this van. I was one of the last people in and this took some delicate maneuvering to fit us all in. James was sitting in the aisle and there was no place for me to go but right on top of him. This adventure ended up being more fun than anything.
At the Temple of the Moon, which was only unearthed 19 short years ago is still under excavation. There are no outside archeologist coming into Peru to see what can be discovered or learned from this civilization...all the money towards its re-unearthing is being posted by a Peruvian beer company. This made me think of history and how history is determined by a few minds that want to study certain civilizations and events and then put it in a book. From there it makes it into our education system. In school we get fed all this information, but who dictates what will be taught? I´m almost feeling cheated, but knowing that it is my turn to study the history I desire.
After that we made it to the main square, bought myself a king kong and other pasteries to tie me over til dinner. We just missed a protest but all the streets were still closed off, which made hoofing it much easier. From there we took taxis to the mall. It was an open air mall and it was like any mall back home. The prices were the same and everything. OOOO....from there we went back to the hostel and loaded all of are stuff up for a night bus. O glorious nights spent on a bus.

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